


battlefields and chapel yards

by eraserheadbaby



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Codependency, F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23344372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eraserheadbaby/pseuds/eraserheadbaby
Summary: Maybe it isn't her burden to carry, looking after her brother like this – it most likely isn't. But not accepting it and letting him go where she can't follow weighs heavier than that burden ever could.
Relationships: Eirika/Ephraim (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	battlefields and chapel yards

**Author's Note:**

> all rise for the ceos of twincest

Her lips link in a fleeting smirk, as she allows herself the rare satisfaction of having evaded her brother's well-practiced blade. The clashing of the swords repeats again and again, in a disharmonious, heavy rhythm.

Steel rings imposingly, though never blanketing the cries that the cicadas let out on the barren, morose field. The summer sun chars the air and traces shadows of two frenzied figures on the withered brown grass.

Eirika is almost lured by the chill of the shadows, but gets out of her reverie just in time to block Ephraim's thrust once more. Her response results in yet another meeting of blades that doesn't seem to reach any fair peak.

Until a moment when the world rotates, the sun stops hitting the field and the cicadas stop crying. Until a moment when Ephraim gnashes his teeth, in a show of anger that Eirika has never seen in his face before – a face so like hers that she almost imagines herself bearing the same anger too - and forces his sword as powerfully as he can toward Eirika's.

She feels the excruciating pressure come from her handle on the sword all the way up to her shoulder. With all the strength she can muster, she shields herself from her brother's attack, until her arm gives out and her lips let out a confused whisper.

"Brother, what - "

The sun doesn't hurt her eyes anymore. Ephraim is protecting her from the punishing light, with his body having fallen just above hers. His arms trap her as they stagger between her head, where his sword still gleams threatingly.

Eirika's ears thrum way too loudly, but she can still hear Ephraim's pained whisper of rushing sorries. They're still inside her head as he stands up and runs away, away from her sore body on the grass.

He still takes his sword with him.

Her legs can't find the strength to rush to his side, and if they have a tremor of fear in them too, she pretends not to notice.

The world turns again, and the sun hits her face one more time. The cicadas restart their croaking song. Eirika stays still and tries to catch up with a world moving too fast for her.

*

The sun is nowhere to be seen when Eirika seeks Ephraim again. Humid walls, sallow candlelight and creaks from the wooden floors are all there is inside the castle to escort her as she walks to her brother's room.

The closed door she comes face to face with acquaints Eirika with a new, inconspicuous form of rejection. It's difficult to persuade her hand to move and knock on the wood, the movement too unnatural for them, never needed before.

Three double knocks come, all without answer. Eirika, almost too desperate to pretend everything's normal, barges in the way she normally would.

In a flare of toothy smiles and silly laughs, Ephraims would drag her into his room. They'd talk and talk into the night, and if the conversation got too lively at points, they'd have to sit through a lecture or two from Father.

Reality has prepared a much different scene for her: Ephraim has her back to her, perched on the corner of his bed, seemingly ready to lay in for the night, and it's the first time she feels like an intruder in such a familiar scape. He doesn't offer her any acknowledgement, but his posture freezes enough to let her know he's aware of her.

Even though Eirika can't feel her legs, they still somehow walk her further into the room. She has nothing to say, but Ephraim's mouth moves before her, absolving her of that duty. She feels guilty as relief comes to her like the late summer night brisk through the open windows.

“We shouldn't train together anymore. You know why, don't you?”

Whatever certainty she's been holding onto slips from her grasp. She shakes her head, and it feels more like she's trying to move the strings of a marionette.

“The more I train, the more desperate to win I become...and the more willing to hurt my opponent. So you should never be my opponent, Eirika.”

Eirika has seen what Ephraim describes with her own eyes – her memory gathers the pieces of the puzzle bit by bit, all the signs she'd sworn she'd covered her eyes from until today. Ephraim being just a little too set on gaining one-blow victories. Ephraim starting to measure his weapon's worth on power and not on durability, or rapidity, or any less destructive merit. 

Ephraim's sword slashing right in front of her face, with enough force to bring her down.

Not too different from some many warriors Eirika has seen in her lifetime, all those people willing to exchange human lives and happiness with bloodstained glory and the cheap thrill of a battle.

And it all scares her more than she'd like to admit. She'd be willing to let that Ephraim go, to run away from him.

But losing that Ephraim also means losing the brother that held her tight to dry all the tears she'd shed, sad or happy, serious or childish. The brother that carded a pacifying palm on the top of her head and made even the wildest storm in her heart calm down to a peaceful drizzle.

“But... if I don't train with you, who will look after you?”, is the only thing she finds the voice to say.

“That burden isn't yours to bare.”

Maybe it isn't – it most likely isn't. But not accepting it and letting her brother go where she can't follow weighs heavier than that burden ever could.

“What will happen to you when I'm not there?”. By now, her own voice sounds unrecognizable to her, so desperate.

Ephraim has no answer for her, like she feared he wouldn't. But his bed creaks as he finally stands up, and the room finally lights up as he smiles to her.

His palm rests on her head, and the world finally stops its retrograde.

“Thank you, Eirika. For looking out for me so much. It seems like, whenever I'm losing my way, you're always there to set me straight.”

“I am there and will always be! And you better not forget that.”

Now that the words are out, they unlock some cage that's been compressing her throat all this time; she can't stop neither her hiccups nor the tears that start streaming down her face.

With that warm hand still on the top of her head, Ephraim gets a hold of her waist and brings her to his chest. Over his shoulder, Eirika sees the candlelight briefly lick his sword – she burrows her face into her brother's shoulder and shields her eyes from its reflection.


End file.
